Above And Beyond

After having had all of my classes once each, and after doing homework for two of them, I’ve come to realize that being older and having had this level of curiosity about Japan prior to my formal attempts at learning has made me a bit too eager to move on to certain things. I pride myself on being a fast learner anyway, but being able to pick up on the fact that the first reading assignment in one particular class is meant to demonstrate what not to do, or being able to connect a vocabulary lesson to a catchphrase heard years ago… These are things that I don’t think too many of my classmates can do just yet. I have to balance out my natural inclination to go as far as I can and to exceed expectations with the desire not to stand out too much.

These are, of course, fundamentally incompatible, which is why it is so difficult and stressful.

Stand Up/The Vanguard

In a few short hours– less than half a day– I’ll be beginning my second college experience, and with it, my second career. Quite a bit has happened in the past ten months, much of which would destroy anyone who had not already endured it, but one thing remains true: I am a survivor. I cannot be broken so long as I can see a way forward. I have clawed my way out of hellish situations in the past, and this one– while still the worst challenge I’ve ever been set against– is no different.

I got to thinking about this a little this afternoon. I remember what I had to my name when I left Cleveland for the last time; I had sold off all but a handful of my most treasured possessions and felt that there could be no recovering from such a disaster. That was the end of 2006, the conclusion of a dark chapter in my life, and the beginning of a rebirth of sorts. 2007 was not easy, but it was better. By 2009 I had considered the Reclamation Project complete, and was looking to improve my situation further than I had been before my retreat. I may have overextended my reach in some cases, but by and large I was on the right track– until I suffered an exceptional advance of my depression in 2012. Life collapsed around me then, and while not all of it can be traced back to the disease which is my daily hell, it certainly didn’t help matters.

Tomorrow, though, starts the rebuilding phase again. It will not be easy. It will not be quick. I will have to sacrifice, to eliminate much from my everyday, in order to recover even the slightest equilibrium, let alone advance. The next three to five years will be a true test of who and what I am. Some people never survive their first trip to college; they drop out, or find they can’t handle the pressure, or discover their true passion and talent elsewhere. This will be my second. And if a third, fourth, or ninth is required, then so be it.

The last week has been one where I have found myself doubting everything that has led me to this point. An unrelated setback also occurred which shook my confidence and left me truly doubtful as to whether or not I could manage any real improvement. I’ll freely admit that there have been nights where I have lain awake and on the verge of tears, wondering if I hadn’t just wasted every breath since last Thanksgiving. Some nights I crossed that border.

Tonight will not be one of those nights. I’m going to bed and I expect that I will sleep peacefully, confident that everything will be okay for once. I am, for a change, aware that this is within my power, not just to influence, but to control. That’s the key, for me, and what’s been a major point of my emotional crashes: that what happens to me is not what happens because of me. There’s going to be a lot of unforeseen problems from here on out. Some of them are going to wreck my shit completely. But what I need to keep within me is this feeling– right now– that says that all of that would happen even if I did see it coming and simply couldn’t avoid it. I can let the world go to hell. As long as I keep doing my part to prevent it– by studying, and dedicating myself to the ideal that communications is the answer– then none can judge me unworthy.

If my life is too big to fix on my own, then the reverse is true as well: I’m not wholly responsible for it falling apart, either, and I don’t deserve to stay so low.

I believe that luck is cyclical. I had a bunch of good years in the beginning, and then fourteen bad ones. The wheel has to come back around sometime.

Good night, folks.

Faulty Motivator

To say that the last two months have been hectic and busy would be a gross understatement, the likes of which are unheard of from my usual idiom of communication. It’s taken this long for me to get back to something approaching a normal schedule, and despite the fact that I start classes this coming Monday, I’m still not entirely at 100%. But, like I said, I have less than a week to go: the time to slack is running out.

I’ve spoken at length about depression here, and in other places, and it’s because of that fact that I feel like I really shouldn’t be relying on it as an excuse for why I have tended to nap for hours during the day and have been almost completely inactive on the weekends. But, like it or not, I still have depression, and like it or not, that still means I get wiped out a lot easier than healthy people do. It’s not so much an excuse as it is a challenge, and it’s one I’m going to have to overcome relatively quickly if I’m to solve the majority of my problems.

Part of this is that I do need to muster up motivation to do something extracurricular that poses an actual mental challenge. An acquaintance started translating old NES games for what I can only assume to be fun, and I’m thinking it might not be a bad idea to at least do the script work for some older titles as well. This is all predicate on me keeping up my studies; I refuse to accept anything less than a 3.0 from my report card, with a 3.5 being my ultimate goal. I will not fail, I will not falter.

I should probably also mention that I am getting very excited to get back into studying. I picked up the majority of my textbooks last week, and it’s been a bit of a struggle to prevent myself from reading through the novels assigned for one of the classes ahead of time. I’ve also flipped through my language books, and at that first glance they’re set up in a very interesting and different way from almost every other tutorial text I’ve seen on the language. It’s not about rote memorization of the kana, but very contextual; this echoes some of what I discovered about my own osmosis of the language through countless years of games and anime. It’s an extremely natural way to learn, and one which I’m sure will work for me.

As an aside, I tried taking the advice of several friends who told me to plow through a kanji dictionary a handful of pages at a time over the summer. I just couldn’t do it. I am fairly certain I need the interaction with other learners and actual speakers of the language in order to connect the mental dots. Which, coincidentally, brings me to my next point.

For me, college (the first time around) was as much about learning how to do certain things as it was learning how I learn. Endless calculus drills and derivations have left me all but unable to balance my checkbook, let alone determine the volume of an irregular solid in fifth-dimensional space. Reading through white papers and experiment results were excellent ways to put me to sleep. I literally could not endure another mumbled lecture on how multiple inheritance works in C++. But put a task in front of me, and I learned everything I needed to. Have me write about what I got out of a reading assignment and I could go to town on it. Ask me, and let me ask, and you’ll find that I get it a lot more easily than one might think. I learn by doing, by putting principles into action and experimenting with what I know (or think I know).

A few days ago, a friend posted a bunch of haiku to her blog, in written Japanese. I didn’t ask for a translation; I want to work it out for myself, and I know I will in time. But it’s that sense of going the extra mile, of wanting to fight through an assignment that piques my interest that has me more excited than the prospect of ten-minute rampages across campus to get to class on time, or lectures that warp the fabric of reality and become inescapable temporal anomalies. It’s not about learning to do. It’s about what I can do with what I learn.

And that is plenty motivation enough for me.