On sleepless roads the sleepless go. (Taking Stock.)
It’s been a trying semester, in every sense of the word. Emotionally, physically, academically, the return to NTU has worn away some of the post-exchange lustre I had returned with. Still, in many ways, I’m proud of what I did this sem. Of keeping faith, and keeping the fight. I’ve worked fucking hard in every conceivable manner and in many ways I’m proud of my efforts.
Still, sometimes, efforts and outcomes hardly gel and at this point I should recognise that these discrepancies should not matter in light of the experience/journey. But they do and I am far too pragmatic to pretend otherwise.
And I’ve thought multiple times over the course of these thirteen weeks that I should learn to treat myself better, because despite what I am sometimes I inclined to believe, I am neither a shitty nor incompetent person and thus deserve a kinder judgement than what I often subject myself to. But in this case, knowing is the furthest thing from believing. And over the course of the semester the repeated self-reflexive pep talks intended to spur on this disillusioned soul have long worn thin and hollowed out. Where then, does any inkling of a solution lie? How do you learn to love yourself again? And where exactly, amidst this jungle of catcalls and whispers and mental self flagellation, did I lose it in the first place?
