Tell Father-time To Give Me An Effing Break Already!I recently attained my AS in Business Administration (with a 3.194 GPA) and I am currently pursuing my BA in Social Work. That in itself should be good enough, however today I began to believe that all the work and focus I put into my education is worth ****. I am a self-proclaimed autodidact, so my curiosity has been enough to fuel my intelligence in addition to the training and skills I have acquired from my respective institutions.
The root of my problem is that I will be turning thirty this year. You may be asking, "how in the flying hell are you turning thirty and you only have an associates degree?"
My answer to anyone asking that question is, "no **** Sherlock. Did I not just title the name of this confession, "tell father time to GTFO my back"?" Okay, maybe that's not quite it, but I'm venting. So bare with me...
When I was sixteen, I was abducted, beaten and sexually assaulted by a group of young men. The rape in itself was unbearable, but the icing on the cake was the fact that they brought neighborhood boys by to see what they were doing to me. Some of them laughed, some of them cringed and most wound up shaking their heads when one of the new crowd members decided to join my attackers. When the detectives on the case had gone around the neighborhood to do their detective ****, I found out that there was a man and his ten year old son watching it happen from the window. The man told them he thought I was out there on my own accord, and that the taunts and barking orders from my attackers, blood on my skin and terrified body language I exhibited missed his radar.
My family responded by not responding. My aunt came by with my cousins to spend time consoling my mother. My father, who lived in another state with his new family, came to fix the lock on the door since my attackers thought it a good idea to steal my keys and break into my house right after (IDK if they wanted to find me after I escaped [this happened 4 blocks from my lifetime home] or if they just wanted to let me know they knew where I lived [they went into my room and stole my VCR). The only person who acknowledged me directly to say that they would be in my corner to talk about anything was my uncles now ex-wife who had her own rape experience in college. My friends couldn't deal with my constant need to remove myself and be detached when I got overwhelmed or my growing anxiety and all but one abandoned my friendship. I made it through high school learning that if I wanted to be okay, I had to bury everything deep inside and cover it with cement of denial. I sunk into a crazy depression over the following years after failing out of my dream school my freshman semester and did not snap out of it until I turned twenty-five. By that time I had spent years working a job that was made for a person with personality charactaristics opposite of mine (panic attacks and zombie energy), as well as carrying on multiple abusive relationships (being in dire need of a sense of security and protection caused me to be drawn to the bad boy... smh) I'm not sure what snapped, but I wound up deciding on going back to school in order to be able to afford the type of lifestyle I really deserve and in order to stop compromising my self, mind body and soul in order to secure myself in this one area of life.
I say all this to say, that even after dealing with being raped and humiliated, shut out of the family and drained on all levels, I still found the strength and will to do something for myself. Show myself some love. Give myself some peace and security. I spent the next two years or so working on my first degree and I finally graduated this past December.
I still make the same money.
I still live at home with my mother.
I still have no savings.
I still have no security.
I still have no peace.
and I'm too old for that ****.
Today, as I left class and started my trek to work, I began to feel as if I want to just quit.
Nothing I have done in life has created anything tangible for me. Nothing I have done has helped me overcome the time and resource deficit I fell into during my depression.
Don't worry though. My left brain is going to make sure finish this BA and go on to pursue my Masters as well as a PhD, but deep down inside know that I am wasting my time. Deep down inside, I know that by the time I am done, I will still have nothing.
All I want to do is love and laugh and tan and be happy. But I don't have the time.