How to Walk Across the Stage and Never Receive Your Degree

Maybe it got lost in the mail. Maybe some idiot sent it to my school address which, since I graduated, I am no longer able to use. Maybe I missed some detail on the requirements page and they decided I didn't graduate, then decided they'd better not let me know. Whatever it is, I walked across the stage when my name was called six weeks ago and received an empty red folder, and still haven't received the piece of paper to put inside it. My best friend got his in the mail two weeks ago.

I already have self esteem problems (that's a giant understatement), so it hurts a bit not to know whether I've actually achieved this milestone in my life. If I don't have that stupid piece of paper, what did I get out of those four years of college and the overwhelming amount of debt I'll have to begin repaying in a few short months?

I'll tell you some things I didn't get.

1) A job. My department doesn't really have a job placement plan, and I don't know anyone in any relevant field, so I'm reduced to constantly checking Craigslist for barista positions that don't require me to use my body to sell a cup of coffee. It's weird how much those outnumber regular barista openings in my area right now.

2) A relationship. I went to a Christian school, so getting a degree is really just an excuse to be there so you can find what you're really looking for, which is a spouse. I screwed that part up and focused on my education. Oops. Guess I'll just never get married, right? Can't be that bad.

3) A sense of pride in my accomplishment. Everyone is going around telling me, "Congratulations!" and my mom's like, "My baby graduated Magna Cum Laude, I'm so proud!" and acting like I did some incredible thing like fly to the moon or whatever, but I don't see it as a big deal. So I walked across the stage when they called my name. Anyone can do that. This girl who went to my high school did that, and she had been wheelchair-bound for her entire life. Now that's something to congratulate. Not what I did. What I did was meaningless.

4) Respect for myself. This one is pretty simple. I "graduated" college, but I don't have any of the things listed above even though most people I know do, and then there's the self-esteem thing I mentioned before, so this is the result of all that mess.

5) The one thing I actually wanted. During orientation we had to do an activity where we would write on a piece of paper one thing that we wanted to leave behind us during our time at school, and on the other side we were supposed to write one thing we wanted to gain in place of the other. Then we buried the papers and the old thing was supposed to be buried and the new thing would grow as we grew. All of my friends said they forgot what they wrote and that was the point of the exercise, but I think it just didn't mean anything to them, because I remembered what I wrote and that piece of paper meant more to me than anything else I could accomplish in that place. On the first side I wrote, "doubt" and on the other, "faith." As long as I could leave my doubts behind and learn to have faith, I'd be in a better place. After all, that was the reason I chose the school I chose. I could have chosen any college (almost), but I chose to be there because I wanted to learn something I couldn't learn at a public school. And I failed. You see, even though I spent four years in a community of believers, I failed to strengthen my own faith. At the end of my journey, I have no job, no husband, no sense of pride in my so-called accomplishments, no respect for myself, and most of all, no faith that I will ever have any of those things. I actually don't even believe they'll ever mail me my degree.

This might sound silly, but it almost feels like my school watched me drop that paper into the dirt, they knew what was written on each side, and they monitored my spiritual growth (or lack thereof). Until I learn to have faith, they can't give me a degree, because I failed to learn anything while I was at school. I passed everything else, but I failed this test, and that means I didn't earn my degree. Yeah, it definitely sounds silly. But it sure feels true.

Where Is Rock Bottom, Anyway?

About a month ago I asked this rhetorical question of my 6 Twitter followers: "What does rock bottom look like and how fast can I get there?"

I asked because I've attended a Christian university for almost 4 years now and I'm really disappointed with my failure to rely on God for basically anything. I thought, "Hey, if I can get to rock bottom, if I can just have nothing left at all, I'll have to turn to Jesus, right?"

A week later, I totaled my car on the highway in rush hour tragic. It made for an interesting spring break.
A week after that, I found out my application was declined for the internship that was the only post-graduation plan I had.

Losing my car should have meant giving up four hours of work per week, among other things, but what the accident really taught me was that I have a support system. People were there for me, people who wouldn't let go of me easily. And I thought, maybe rock bottom isn't a possibility. Because wouldn't rock bottom mean no support system? Wouldn't it mean so much more than no car, but also no job, no place to live, no idea where I'm getting my next meal? And I'm convinced I won't ever have to deal with that, because I'll always have someone.

So either "rock bottom" means I would have to become a horrible person and push all of my loved ones away, or I have to think of it in relative terms. Rock bottom for you might mean living on the street, begging for change, but for me maybe it's wasting away at my parents' house, not applying for jobs at all because I can't convince myself that any of it matters anymore? I don't know.

I guess what I was really thinking was, "God, please just take everything away from me, take me all the way down to the worst circumstances possible, because as long as nothing can possibly get worse, I'll know it has to get better."

But did I really mean it? I can't believe I wished this upon myself. I allowed a stupid moment of self-pity to make me forget all the good things I had going for myself, and then I willed those things away. I don't even remember why.

Before the accident, I was dealing with a lot of self-hatred, and I don't even remember why. I don't remember what about myself I hated so much. I know what I hate now. I hate the stupid girl who drove my car into the back of a pickup truck because she was in a hurry. I hate the girl who only applied for one job because it just would have been absurd to have options. I hate having absolutely no way to get from here to any kind of future I might have been able to hope for.

I guess I'm in the same place I was a month ago: sitting here, knowing I'm falling, waiting to finally fall far enough that I can finally start going up again.

Metamorphosis 101 ("Everything is okay.")

A couple weeks ago, I found out Fall Out Boy has a new single and their new album is coming out in May, and the giddy little fangirl inside me started freaking out. Immediately, I hopped over to YouTube to check out their new single, "My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light Em Up)." Here's the video if you haven't seen it yet. (You don't have to watch it; I know it's Fall Out Boy.)

The video basically makes a big production of the whole process of lighting Fall Out Boy's old music on fire. The fire is obviously a symbol of purification and new life, sending the message that the band wants to reignite their career without being tied down to any of their past work. They want us to know they've changed.

Here's another band that used fire as a symbol of change, and you have to watch this video because it's my favorite band and because it's not just a music video.

This one is a little bit more intricate, even if it is a couple years older. Here we see others getting excited about the change, saying things like, "I can't wait to leave here," and, "It's going to be so much better there." They're excited about what's going to happen, but some of them are unsure of what to take with them and what to leave behind.

And then they face some obstacles on the way out of town, and one of those is a wall of fire. Brendon and Spencer quickly realize they can't continue with their baggage weighing them down, but the others can't find the strength to let go. Only Brendon and Spencer have the courage to leave it all behind and face the fires of change.

I think we can relate to the others in the video. Change sounds exciting at first, but you really want me to leave my whole life behind? "It's easy, just drop it," says Brendon. But it isn't easy.

There's a movie I recently fell in love with called Liberal Arts and it contains a scene that really sums up the experience of change. Zac Efron's character shows up and offers some philosophical insight in the form of a parable about caterpillars. To paraphrase, what happens is that suddenly these cells appear in the caterpillar, called imaginal cells, and they start to tell the caterpillar it's butterfly time. Because these cells are different, the caterpillar's immune system attacks. But they keep showing up, and the caterpillar's immune system can't fight them off. They take over, and the coolest thing happens: the caterpillar becomes a butterfly. And isn't that so much better than being a caterpillar forever? "Everything is okay," says Efron.

The story about the caterpillar has stuck with me for the last couple of weeks because I'm in a season of change. I'm a senior in college, and that means something big is coming, but I don't know what that is. I'll probably do what I can to fight this change, like the caterpillar fights the imaginal cells, like the characters in "The Overture" fight to keep their things. But the caterpillar has no way of knowing it's going to become something as amazing as a butterfly, and I don't know who or what I'm going to become.

All I know is, fire can be destructive, but it makes way for new life. All I know is, change is scary, but it works out for caterpillars. So for the next couple months, I have to keep telling myself, "Everything is okay." I can't see what's ahead, but that doesn't mean it isn't beautiful.

Myself 101

It's crazy how much you can learn about yourself just from writing things down. Today I found a folder in my documents titled "Personal Journals" and I thought it would be fun to explore some of my thoughts from two years ago. It was insane. There were things I wrote about that I definitely remember happening but completely forgot I had them documented. There were thoughts that, when I look back at them, seem entirely crazy to me, and others that still make perfect sense or still ring true, such as "I'm always afraid of something." And, best of all, in the middle of a rant about why I wasn't looking forward to Valentine's Day, there was this, "THEY ALWAYS GO THROUGH THAT DOOR. THEY HAVE TO OPEN THAT DOOR. AND THEN THE STUPID THING NEVER SHUTS UP ALWAYS CREAKING CREAKING CREAKING NEVER CEASING CREAKING CREAKING CREAKING."

Yeah. That's me as a college freshman.

So I learned some things about myself tonight, including that I really have grown. That's a thing that's really nice to know.

Yet Another Snow Day

I haven't done a thing today because they cancelled classes again due to snow. I feel like a lazy American because that's what I am.

Actually, I helped some people dig their cars out of snow earlier and that felt pretty good. That felt like purpose, like I had discovered the meaning of life.

But then I didn't get any academic work done, so I'm mad at myself.

This is why I can't be in a relationship right now. Because the other person would always have to say, "No, you are worth something," and I'd be like, "No really, look at what I've done." And then they'd just be really frustrated that I would never get it, and we'd both be unhappy.

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Identity 101

It's my senior year in college, so now I'm more anxious than ever before about not knowing who I am, whatever that means. Sometimes I think it's because I'm always so connected to other people that I don't get enough time to be a person all on my own. That might be partially true, but I also know it's okay to be influenced by others, so that's not the whole issue.

It's my senior year in college, so I'm closer than ever before to being thrust into the real world, whatever that is. It's time to start looking for jobs, start really living on my own, stop eating nearly all of my meals in a cafeteria. I'm not sure where I'm going or what I'm doing or if I will even find a job, but that's not the worst part. The worst part is, I don't even know what I want to do or where I want to be.

I'm an English major. What do you do with that? If I were an education major, I'd become a teacher. If I were an engineering major, I'd become an engineer. If I were a nursing major, I could be a nurse. I'm an English major. It's so open-ended. I have options to consider and decisions to make. Have I mentioned yet that I'm terrified?

I have felt for several years now that I'm a little different from what I consider to be "most people." The way I see it, most everyone else is afraid of dying. Nobody really wants to believe their time on Earth will end one day, especially not young people like me who should have their whole lives ahead of them. Right? But I was kneeling at the alter one Sunday several years ago thinking about eternity and I thought, "Forever? Who wants to be around forever? Who really wants to never stop existing? Isn't that so much scarier than knowing we'll all die one day?" And I haven't reached the point of shaking that feeling yet. The difference between me and others is that I'm not exactly afraid of dying. I'm afraid of living.

Like I was telling a friend today, life seems like so much more of a risk than death. To me, death is more certain than life. Everyone knows we all die. It's the one thing that equalizes all of humanity; that no matter who you are and what you do in this life, you will end up in the grave. We all will. But what about life? Some people find happiness, like my parents and their unusually healthy marriage. Sure, my mom doesn't like her job, but she has a man who cares for her and that's not going to change. That's awesome, except that most people these days are getting divorced, and I definitely don't want that. I'm afraid of marriage because I don't know if I'll end up like my parents or like everyone else. And I haven't met anyone yet who makes me want to take that risk.

Of course, marriage isn't the only uncertainty in life. The other big one is career choices. I should probably try to tell myself I won't end up with my dream job right out of college and that's okay because I have time. But the truth is, I'm so afraid of life I can't allow myself to have a dream job. Any time I think of something that sounds fun, I tell myself, "That's not a reality. Pick a different dream." My first dream was to be an author, but the starving artist role doesn't really suit me. Then I dreamed of being an advice columnist for a newspaper, but I keep telling myself newspaper is dying. I thought about writing sitcoms, but I would hate to live in a big city like New York or L.A. Yuck. So now I'm supposed to be looking at my options, but I don't even know what I want. Because what if I put my heart into something and it doesn't turn out? If I don't decide what I want, I can't be disappointed when I don't get it.

But what if I don't decide what I want? Well, then I'll be stuck living with my parents and flipping burgers just to make a few bucks, struggling to pay off the loans I took out on an education I won't even be using. And that's my dilemma. If I know who I am and what I want, I could end up with a lot of disappointment in the end. But if I don't decide who I want to be, I'll never be anyone.

My identity crisis doesn't come from spending too much time around other people and letting them influence me. It comes from being afraid to know myself. Because if I know myself, I might not like myself. Because if I know myself, I might know my dreams, and I might not achieve them. Because if I know myself, I will have something to live for. And I can't think of anything more terrifying than wanting to live.

Dropped the Ball

Hey guys, you probably noticed I never did finish that 30-day challenge. I had a lot going on what with breaking up with my boyfriend (thank God that awful relationship is over), moving back to school, and everything else. I just didn't feel up to it anymore. I'm taking some cool classes this semester (Biblical Greek) so hopefully I'll find some time to post about those later on.