At the end of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy asks the potentials to “Make your choice. Are you ready to be strong?” It’s always a moving moment for me; it’s a battle cry I want to rally behind as a woman, as a person. But today I have to say, my answer is “not so much, thanks.”
Yesterday when I saw the dean’s email asking me to call her, I knew what it meant. They don’t contact you unless you failed. But I was hoping it was something else, even though I knew better. When I cried after, I knew I could take the exams again but it didn’t mean anything. I was planning on spending the afternoon cleaning up, but after that I just wanted to stop doing everything. I knew if I would skate, it would help, but I didn’t want anything to help, either. I wanted to curl up in bed or on the couch, stuff my mouth with junk, and not ever move again. But I got up, and I went to Anacostia, and I skated. And all I could think about was what I was doing, and it helped. For a little while I could answer “okay” when I was asked how I was by people who were simply being polite. (Also, I can t-stop with either foot now.) When I left I headed to The Boy’s place to get my keys from him and he gave me lots of long hugs, which I accepted, but didn’t need at the time. I went to Franklins to get a beer with photographer friend J, who regularly offers to buy me a beer on bad days and circumstances kept preventing it. I was feeling okay. I felt like I could handle all this.
This morning, not so much. I’m back to wanting to eat junk and curl up in bed and never move again. I want to lay on the couch and watch tv until my brain stops working. I want to sleep forever. I want to skate and skate and skate until I die. I want to give up, please. Can’t I just give up?
The answer, as always, is no, you can’t.