To People Who Have Graduated College A Couple Of Years Ago
A couple of years ago, (around this time although I do not remember the day nor does it warrant looking up) I, too, graduated college.
That’s right, you fresh crop of Facebook photo albums, I ALSO once carried a smart phone while frantically looking for my parents post-ceremony, lost in a sea of light cardigans and Ann Taylor mom pants. That’s right, you group shots of bright cheeks and “it’s weird that I hooked up with him and he got in this picture anyway!” I was there once. I held the diploma and then stuck it on my wall instead of burning or eating it. I did it as well.
Time, you devil. I look at these Twitter statuses, ye throngs of faithful social media mavens, displaying optimism and fear and all that lies in between—and I feel old. Well, not old in the way Rose was SO old she deemed it perfectly fine to drop a bajillion dollar necklace in the sea. Old in the way that my bread feels old: moldly, but still potentially usable.
The folk speech of Appalachia instead of being called corrupt ought to be classified as archaic. Many of the expressions heard throughout the region today can be found in the centuries-old works of some of the greatest English authors: Alfred, Chaucer, Shakespeare, and the men who contributed to the King James version of the Bible, to cite but a few. People of the Southern Appalachian Mountains (foothills) speak a dialect closer to Elizabethan English than any spoken today.
This is hilarious to me because these are words my mother uses on the daily
One of my nurses in labor & delivery used “cattywampus.”
Definitely one of the high points of the experience.
That some things, (and I’m talking about losses here, negative things, not positive ones) happen for a reason. And that you may have to mourn their loss, just like you would a death. You go through the same stages of grief just like you do when suffer any loss. The first time I was ever diagnosed with anything and was in therapy was after I threw a $30,000 Zoll monitor out of the back of an ambulance. I went and started seeing a therapist/ Psychiatrist after that. She diagnosed me with major depression and put me on Celexa. (At the time, I didn’t know it of course, but I really had bipolar and this threw me into some serious mania,but different story for another time) this came right after I didn’t get a job that I thought was in the bag, in my head I was moved to Charlotte, NC, working for MEDIC, living with my best friend and all would be well. I was thrown into a frenzy of depression. I slept some days all day, but would then stay up for four days straight, looking back, I was probably in a mixed state. I was, for lack of a better term having a nervous breakdown. Oh and on top of all of this it was final week in Art School. So there was that too, I was up all night finishing these projects for school. Mix, shake and out goes a very expensive piece of equipment out the back of am ambulance in quite and epic show of rage. I was given two weeks of medical leave to sort my head out. and I did. I grieved the loss of that job, was put on medication, and was okay for a while. All while slowly slipping more and more into mania, because of the Celexa.Now fast forward to today, I have a correct diagnosis. I am on the correct meds Been hospitalized once (med problems compounded by, yet another loss—another rejection, but I now realize this is a good thing, I didn’t get that job for a reason, I dont know what the reason is quite yet, but there is a reason. I just know it) I have a good PDoc and therapist. So its working out