Why Don’t I Love School Anymore?

This puzzles me. During my elementary years I found school to be a delightful experience. Albeit there were things that I found challenging, subjects I disliked, and  assignments I’d rather not do, but overall I LOVED school. And I loved my own particular educational experience.  As a homeschooled student I enjoyed being in charge of my own schedule and organizing my own work. (I  really do enjoy organization.) There were occasions that I did long for a “real” school, and a “real” teacher, classroom, co-students, schedule, etc., but I tend to think that was only a case of the-grass-is-always-greener-on-the-other-side-of-the-fence.

Why did I like school so much? I don’t know for sure, and I’m not trying to flatter myself here, but I honestly think that I just relished learning. To this day, on my bedside shelf I keep some beloved textbooks of mine from eighth grade. I’m sure you’re either raising your eyebrows or laughing by now, but I kid you not. There was something about the magic that these books unlocked for me that I wished to cherish and experience over again. Now these aren’t my math and science texts; they’re poetry and vocabulary books. Which makes sense because I really love language: grammar, vocabulary, literature, writing…in most cases I find them all purely delightful, utterly fascinating, and breathtakingly beautiful.

So what exactly puzzles me about this? Well, more and more I find myself challenged by things I  used to love, turned off by the thought of hard work, and just struggling to get by in my academic studies. It could be that I’m not used to college rigor; it very well may be simply because I am no longer “master of my own fate”  in relation to school. I tend, however, to believe it is ED. Oh, the dreaded of beasts to encompass a girl. It’s tempting for me to assume I’m just making excuses for myself, and I could be, but when I examine things in light of the past, in light of the person I am—or was—it really just seems like he’s the one to blame. 

Okay, so I think the culprit is ED. But what do I do about it? How do I get through this? I’m eighteen; I need to move on with my life. This is one of the most important stages—it’s the time of life that one makes the decisions that determine her future. Academically, spiritually, physically…everything. These are the years that I’m supposed to step out into the world, to transition from childhood to adulthood, to make the choices that determine my own success. Oh! The angst, the pressure, the responsibility of it all—it weighs so heavily on my mind. Yet I am so incapable and I feel so helpless! How can I be expected to do all this?

The only answer I can surmise is to—as painful as this is for a perfectionist like me—CUT MYSELF SOME SLACK. I need to remind myself “you’re recovering girl!! Rome wasn’t built in a day.” This. is. hard. I wanna plan!! I want some direction! That’s all well and good, and I hope someday those things will come, but for now…for now, I guess I just need to try and get by doing the best I can? I dunno. I think. Maybe. Am I on the right track here? Does anyone else feel like this? Lots of questions, not a lot of answers. Okay, I know that God has a plan for me, so all I can say is “Jesus, it’s in YOUR hands.” Have faith. (I need faith!) Trust in him.
 
IMAGE SOURCE:  Microsoft Word Clipart, which can be accessed in Word or here.