October 20th, 2014
Welcome back to the musings of my mind, sponsored by depression, anxiety and Lakeside Psychiatric Medicine! On todays agenda, my harrowing experience at the community college!
I look up from my writing to see the cool stare of Dr. Morgan peering at me expectantly. Her nails and dye-job have been updated and she looks considerably more well-rested since the last time we spoke.
I'm much more careful with my writing now, deliberately not mentioning anything about my parents for her to complain about this time. I have to admit my chest feels lighter then the last time I was writing in the stupid black book and instead of struggling to write, topics continue to crop up in my mind.
On this week's episode, College applications! I always saw myself going to some stuck-up, super conservative online Christian college picked out for me by my overbearing yet well-meaning helicopter parents. Now that I was somewhat out on my own, it seemed I had another dilemma; thinking for myself. You see, 18 years of being told how to act and what to do has a rather irritating side effect of not having any fucking clue as to how to function as an adult.
Which led me to the events of last Friday; taking a tour of a local college and feeling like a total fish out of water. Among countless crop tops, floral prints and pumpkin spice lattes, my goodwill clothes and pale complexion made me stand out like a turkey in a crowd of peacocks.
All in all, DeLeon County Community College looked like a millennial's wet dream; a bright campus sporting murals of encouragement and well being through scholastic achievement. A smiling woman of Caucasian decent smiled brightly at me from the advertisement in a nearby window, advertising something about financial aid. I assumed said window belonged to the main office or some similar administrative building due to it's creepy attempt at being welcoming.
When I looked into the building I could see a highly irritated young woman with neon cerulean hair having what appeared to be a very animated conversation with an administrator. Suddenly, she stormed towards the door, swinging it wide and narrowly missing taking me out in one fell swoop. I made a garbled sound of alarm that can only be described as similar to a goat being castrated without any sedative.
Upon realizing she had nearly ended my life prematurely, the bespectacled woman stared at me with a mixture of confusion and amusement. "Uh... Sorry, I didn't see you.."
Steeling myself against my social anxiety, I managed a weak smile back. "It's alright, I'm not exactly sure where I'm going, but this seemed like a good place to start."
"I don't know if I'd classify anything about this place as 'good', but, if you're looking for the administrative building, this would be it." The woman looked back over her shoulder and sent a glare to the bored administrator behind the desk. "They kinda suck at the administrating part."
The concern bubbling up in the pit of my stomach must have been shown on my face, as she held up a hand as if to stop my runaway thoughts. "Er.. That is, if your anything other then a straight, white, goody two shoes. You should be fine, Princess." She flashed a winning smile at me before holding the door open for me.
"I'm Taylor, by the way. Maybe I'll catch you around here sometime?"
"Maybe.." I looked down to avoid meeting her eyes, my awkwardness now in full swing and shuffled through the door and away from the short, feisty woman. Every step towards the desk felt monumental, the nerves welled in the pit of my stomach and I forced myself to keep walking.
The administrator watched me slink up to her desk with a bored expression, a stark contrast to the pictures on the walls of happy graduates. Ads for clubs, tutors and additional assistance were scattered around the room, which gave me hope that they would be able to help me too.
"Hello, my name is Luna, I was hoping to talk to someone about Financial Aid and getting started here?" The administrator sized me up as I spoke and turned to pull out some papers automatically, before I'd even finished talking.
Her voice was a dull monotone as she handed me the papers. "This is the FAFSA paperwork. If you're under 24, we'll need your parent's proof of income and-"
"I don't speak to my parents, I have no way to get their income.." I picked at the pills on my shirt shyly, embarrassed. How could I have thought I could do this? My mother's voice berated me in the back of my mind, reminding me of how much I didn't know about the 'real world'.
"Well, you are considered a dependent student, so in order to get Federal assistance, you have to get that information." She was unfazed, looking at me with a blank stare. Nancy, according to her faded nametag, had clearly had this conversation a million times. "You can appeal that decision, apply for a private loan, or you can try to get a grant or scholarship."
"...Thank you... I'll keep that in mind.. Thanks for your time, ma'am." I stood up, hollowly, and walked out of the building, back towards the parking lot to wait for Kris. I sat on the sidewalk, feeling rather pathetic and upset with myself for being so excited. I felt entirely out of my depth, embarrassed at my own ignorance. 'Of course they wouldn't give me a loan... I have no money to pay it back.. I'm so stupid..' The tears welled up in my eyes before I could stop them and I quietly sobbed.
I sat like that for a few minutes before I felt a light hand on my shoulder. I looked up, but instead of Kris' wild, fiery curls, it was the blue-haired girl from before, Taylor.
"You doing okay, kid? Looks like bad news to me." Her brow was furrowed in concern as she sat on the concrete next to me.
"Uh, yeah... I'm fine.. they just can't help me with the student aid thing... I don't talk to my parents so I can't use their income for the FAFSA application. I just feel a little silly... I kinda thought they gave FAFSA to everyone...shows how much I know." My words came out shaky and awkward and I gave her a watery smile.
"Oh, that's a bitch, dude. Hey...uh.. I have to get to work soon, but I wanted to check on you 'cause you seemed very... sad." She ran a hand through her hair and sighed, standing up. "Look, it isn't all bad out here in the 'real world', how 'bout I give you my number and you hit me up sometime? I've had to do all the financial bullshit when I started, I can help you make sense of it."
I stared at her for a solid minute before nodding, stunned. "Thank you.." I gave her my cracked phone and she put her number in before handing it back to me. She started walking to her car, waving to me as she climbed into a 90s Toyota sedan and drove off.
The rest of my day was uneventful, Kris picked me up, we went grocery shopping and I went to bed, more hopeful then I had been in a long time.
I passed the notebook back to Dr. Morgan, who read over my writing with a neutral expression. Unlike last time, I felt a lot better about what I'd wrote. Maybe it was just the happy pills in my system but I felt a little lighter overall this week, accomplished. Even though I'd failed at the college application, I'd made a potential friend.
Dr. Maria looked at me over her silver-rimmed glasses with a small smile. "Well, I'd say your treatment plan seems to be helping you. I'm glad to see you taking initiative to try and better yourself through education."
I let out a sigh of relief, but it was rather short lived as the doctor started to speak again.
"However, it still seems like you're blaming your upbringing for a lot of your problems." Her face softened a bit as she looked at me. "Faith, if you're ever going to make it in this world you have to take responsibility for your own actions and stop blaming other people for heartache in your life."
I stared at her blankly. The anxiety swirled in the back of my throat, the flames of anger flaring in my chest. Before I could calm down the words came tumbling out of my mouth like a river. I slammed my hands on the desk and shouted at her.
"Why can't you just be encouraging, just once!" I snapped. "I KNOW nobody forced me to cut myself! I know my mom isn't the root of all my problems! But for fucks sake, I lived 18 years under their thumb, I was always told my worth lied in my grade, my purity or my religiousness! I was never worth ANYTHING to them! I'm sorry that I'm not magically over 18 years of abuse overnight! Why can't you just be happy for me, just once!!!" My chest was heaving by the time I was done, tears streaming down my face. "My name is Luna.." I sobbed as I slid back into my chair.
Dr. Maria Morgan looked at me for a long time before finally responding. "Faith, er, Luna..." She let out a long sigh.
"I know how scary it can be to be out in the real world as a teenager. But you are shooting yourself in the foot dwelling on the past. I'm not telling you to not grieve and process that part of your life, but it's been nearly 8 months since you moved out. You have a history of self harm and suicidal tendencies... a month ago you nearly took your own life. At some point you HAVE to move on from your past and start anew, or it will always follow you."
She looked at the pale skin on her finger where her wedding ring used to be, before glancing back at me. "You are making progress, yes, but part of maturing is acknowledging that you are the only person responsible for your actions now. You can't control how other people acted, or how they behave now. You can only control your own actions."
She turned to look at the clock. "I'm afraid that's all the time we have for today... Have a nice week." She gathered her papers and clipboard as I collected my things and walked out of her office.
It wasn't till I looked at my phone in the hallway did I realize it was only 2:51.
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