Prozac?

Nurse Paul asked if I was depressed.

He leaned in, the body language that always says "I'm concerned about you, but we aren't that familiar with eachother, so I can't give you a hug, so I'll just awkwardly position myself as close to you as I can." I came in because I have been feeling exhausted all the time lately. He tested me for mono and anemia, both which came up negative. Then, he began asking me the psychological questions.

"Do you ever get depressed?"

"Um, no. Not really."

"You know, like do you ever have difficulty getting out of bed?"

"Well, yeah...I guesso."


" what does being exhausted have anything to do with this?

"So, do you sometimes stay in bed because you don't feel like it's worth getting out of bed?"

"Well...maybe sometimes, but I think it's just because I've been really stressed out."

"Ok, ok..." he nods slowly, and I don't know if he's convinced. Or if I even needed to try to convince him.

The truth is, I don't know what I am. Every woman in my immediate family is on some kind of anti-depressants, and the last thing I want to do is follow the trend. But I can't help feeling like there's some weird biological thing going on inside of me.

I find myself laying in bed this morning, at 10 am, and wanting to skip both my classes today, despite the fact that I really enjoy them. I can't really understand why I would willingly skip Photo I at this point. Maybe because it reminds me of how much I suck at photography. I don't know.

Maybe I don't like this stage in my life. I should love it--I'm 21, engaged, and getting ready to graduate college. But I don't love it. Not even close.

I'm engaged, which means I have to wait 7 more months before I can get married, which means until then, there are a million and a half things to do for a wedding. Things that "must be done," they say, like napkins with our names printed on them, which are a ridiculously frivilous expense.

In this moment, all I want is to be with the one I love, to wake up next to him, to breathe him in and out, to not have to answer to anyone but ourselves on how late we should stay out, and what fun we can have. I want to go to sleep with him there, and in the morning, I want him to still be there. And, pathetically enough, not having this is making me ache. And yes, everyone says "It's only 7 months, and then, it's the rest of your life! Enjoy the singledom!" but it's really hard when that 7 months feels like 7 years, and your life as a single woman is basically nonexistant because of school and more school and distant friends.

I don't love getting ready to graduate because that means I have to officially grow up. Although I've poked fun at people that have their diploma, then go back to their home town, live with their parents, and work at the local Piggly Wiggly, I can't blame them. I had this wonderful plan (had I not been married) of moving by myself to east TN and starting a whole new identity outside of Union and everywhere else. I'd have my own little house dog, join a new church, and go hiking on the weekends. But would I have really done it? I would like to think that I would have. I would like to think that after all of these years of going through uncomfortable situations and coming out of them, that I can handle anything. That I would have handled anything. But I guess I will never really know. And that kind of bothers me.

We're not taught how to function after college, really. We have a neverending pool of friends and events, and then it all seems to end. Friends spread across the U.S. and even further, and we're left scrambling for that "how-to" manual they should give you upon graduation. The only comfort I'm going to find is familiar arms, but other than that, I'm just like everyone else. It's like the first day of school all over again, only this time, it's "the first day of the rest of your life." I don't know that's true. I feel I was living more in high school than when I've been at Union.

I'm also beginning to regret the fact that I even went to college. It traps you in a process, and there's no breaking out of it, really. Two years in your office, and you'll realize that the place really does have good benefits, and leaving it would sabotage the future of your children you're going to have three years down the road. All of those hopes and dreams you had of traveling across the U.S., going back to India one more time, starting an orphanage in Latin America, teaching abroad, and living in a big city are just unrealistic, and they soon fade away.

Does receiving a college diploma mean that the dreams stop there? I hope not. Ironically though, I feel that that's what will happen. And I'm not ready to be that conventional. I want to run in the other direction until my heels bleed.

I stick around with the little bit of hope that it won't be like that. I will break the mold, and I will work for two years professionally, and then give it up to do the crazy adventurous things that I always saw myself doing. I can't imprison myself in a cubicle just so I will be comfortable financially. I can't.


God, help me.