need to write, have to write, must write

“I write because I’m afraid to say some things out loud.” ~ Real Live Preacher, reallivepreacher.com

For me, writing is therapeutic. When I have feelings that I don’t know how to express any other way, I just begin to write. Sometimes something valuable comes out, and sometimes its just a bunch of rubbish. Either way, I feel better after a good long bout of writing. So, why is it that when I most need some therapeutic writing, it takes everything within me just to force myself to sit down and begin?
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So now, about an hour has gone by since I first typed that. I don’t know where I was going with my train of thought. I don’t know what to write. I don’t know which is more important– that I write something of value, or that I write at all.

I’ve been asked on more than one occasion if I had ever considered writing as a profession. One of these occasions was very recently, after they read my memories of my grandmother from when I was a child. More emotion was poured into that piece of writing than I ever thought I was capable of, although I like to think that I pour emotion into all of my writing. My writing TA from first semester this past year made a comment on one of my essays: “Jen, you write beautifully when you try.” (Little did he know, I probably put less effort into writing that essay than I did into avoiding it up until that point, but I digress.)
On the other hand, I’ve been told many times by many people that I should do many things. A diplomat, a lawyer, a doctor, a minister, an artist, a public speaker, a therapist… but have I ever actually sat down and taken the time to consider? Ok, what am I good at, and what do I enjoy, and what would I like to continue doing for the rest of my natural life and get paid for? No. Now that I think about it, I’ve never taken the time to myself to figure out what it is that I want for myself. Before it was always: get good grades, graduate, get into college, go to college, get more good grades, graduate that, get a job. That was always what I wanted to do, because that was what my family wanted me to do. That was what they expected me to do.

And now…

My first semester’s grades were so poor that I was placed on academic probation for the second semester. Part of the probation requirements were that for the second semester, I needed to complete 12 credits and maintain a semester GPA of 2.0 (not cumulative)…
I, once an honor student, once in the top 10% of my class… I, who once recieved fours and fives on AP exams… I, who once recieved a 1460 on my SATs… who once had a GPA of 3.93…
I couldn’t even maintain a fucking C average
As a result, I recieved a letter from the school last week suggesting (read:requiring/demanding) that I take at least a semester off from school. My readmittance in spring 2006 will depend on if I can give them a good reason as to why I haven’t been able to succeed thus far, and what my plans are for ensuring future success.

I know some of you may have no sympathy for me. You’ll make excuses like, ‘Oh she must not have studied.’ or ‘Oh, she probably didnt do any homework,’ or ‘She must’ve spent too much time in extracurricular activities,’ and of course the favorite, ‘She probably partied/drank too much.’
Frankly, at this point, I don’t give a damn what you think. Think of me what you will. Think that I brought this all on myself and that I could have prevented it. The only thing I ask is that I not hear about it. I don’t care what you think, and as a result, dont even want to hear it.

In all actuality, I think the break will be good for me… I just wish it wouldn’t have happened in this way. This way leaves me wondering if I’m actually going to ever graduate college and what the hell I plan on doing with my life. This way makes me realize that I’m not in high school anymore; this time its for real. This way leaves me feeling lost, scared, and confused…

Where am I going? What am I doing?