Gregory Szorc's blog

Back to Writing

So it has been a while since I have wrote in this journal. I don't know if that is good or if that is bad, since I originally started to journal to catalogue the major occurences in my life, not the trivial, day-to-day encounters. Truth be said, a lot has happened since my last entry. I will attempt to cover a lot of it in this and future entries.

So it is the middle of February. Classes have been going on for quite some time now. The first round of exams is over, so the stresses of classes has subsided for the moment. Unfortunately, all is not well in my life.


When the alarm went off this morning, I don't think a single part of me wanted to go to class. I felt extremely exhausted and my throat was a little sore. Thinking nothing of it, I decided to sleep in through circuits lecture, knowing the extra sleep would probably cure whatever ailment it was that I had. There are so many mornings when my body just wants to rest. For most of them, I somehow coerce my body into legargically drifting into the shower. Once that critical step is done, my day will play out like a day in the life of most ordinary college students. Today, however, was one of the few exceptions.


After I decided to stay in bed through circuits lecture (believe me, I'm not making a habbit of this), I periodically drifted in and out of dreaming as I lie ill upon my bed. As the alarm clock approached noon and my impatience with not feeling better wore thin, I finally convinced myself to get out of bed and into the shower. I could not skip differential equations today, as I had to turn in a lab report which not only affected my academic standing in the class, but also that of my partner, a freshman named Heather.


After walking the twenty minutes to class in the frigid Cleveland weather, I felt worse than ever. When I took my seat in class, people asked to make sure I was feeling okay. One remarked that my face looked like that of a drunk Asian (the person himself was Asian, so don't think I am being racist). During class, all I could think about was going back to my room to sleep. The thought of skipping physics lecture crossed my mind, but was quickly shot down when I remembered we would be getting back our graded exams today. I decided to bear through lecture before trotting home. When I got back, I didn't feel much like doing anything, even sleep. I can't remember exactly what I did, but I do know I somehow managed to waste time until dinner at 6. After dinner, I put the final base coat of paint on in the social room. When that was done, I still didn't feel like doing much of anything.


Eventually, I get tired and decide to head to bed. As I am laying there, my mind begins to wander and cannot help but think about my situation. The whole situation of being sick reminded me of how fragile a state my body is in. I live day to day hoping that there will be no surprises, no sudden obstacles that will rid me of my already deprived energy level. I deviate from my daily ritual, and my body responds with cries of agony. Attempts of building up energy are met with resistance from my body. I exercise and my body just wants to sleep in the morning. I eat too well and I find my bank account dwindling. These things I try--these things I know will make me feel better-- just seem to impair me even further.


What is the cause of this? What is the solution? These are serious questions: questions I've pondered for quite some time. It is doubtful that the answer to either of these questions is simple. What am I saying? I know arriving at the answer is difficult, otherwise I would have gotten there by now.


So, what do I think is the cause behind these troublesome times? My answer: solitude. Now, solitude is by no means a bad thing. I believe both social and personal harmony require a certain amount of solitude, but too much of it, as is the case with me, can lead to self-destruction.


Why do I think solitude is the cause behind my degraded personality as of late? The only answer of which I can think is the lack of supporting infrastructure around me. In high school, when I was diagnosed with lupus and was literally bed-ridden for almost a week due to severe arthritis, I had the immediate support of my family and peers. People cared about me. Friends of many years saw the pain I was suffering and offered their assistance. People recognized that I had changed as a result of my illness, but I tried to down-play the seriousness of my physical being. In retrospect, it was in the spring time of my senior year in high school when the first signs of depression were very evident. The causes of depression in my case could be attributed to many aspects of my life at that time, but I will not go into that. The important fact is that I pretended to act my normal self and I ended up failing miserably.


When I arrived at college, my life changed incredibly. Since I am attending a university 6 hours from home and I did not know anybody here when I arrived, the support of my family and friends was quite literally taken from right under me. There I was, perched about a column of air, with only the hope of a new beginning holding me there.


I slowly began to reconstruct the pillars of support around me. For the most part, the people on my floor were all very outgoing and socially compatible. We always hung out and had fun being freshmen with relatively easy course loads. I quickly became friends with many of the people in my dorm as well as those around campus.


Although I was starting out well academically, my emotional baggage was becoming heavier as weeks progressed. The college lifestyle was taking its toll on my energy supply and my existing pillars of support at the time were wavering under me. I realized something was wrong. I realized I wasn't thinking rationally. I realized I was acting weird sometimes because of emotional "fog." When I went to my rheumatologist, he prescribed an anti-depressant, which I only took once because it knocked me out cold. Oh well, I thought. I would survive.


I somehow escaped from that semester with a 4.0, although at least two of those grades were borderline A's. Over Christmas break, my parents could not help but brag about my achievement. I don't think they ever expected me to do so well in my first semester. Although I'm not a big fan of sharing grades, my friends from home eventually found out I had achieved a 4.0 and probably just brushed it off as being typical for me. I'm guessing they assumed I was doing much better and was totally back to normal.


After the long Christmas break, I was anxious to return to school to see all of my new friends. When I did return, however, I experienced something I don't know if I can describe. Everyone seemed different. I don't know if I changed or if everybody else changed, but things were definitely out of the ordinary. (On a side note, it is now evident that I was the one who had changed over break. Signs of depression were getting stronger and stronger and I continually left myself to the fate of some invisible will.) Anyway, I became tired of the normal crowd of friends in the dorm (I mean no offense to them-- I would gladly hang out with them everyday), so I sought adventure elsewhere. Before I knew it, I was pledging a fraternity. What this would mean for the long run, I wasn't sure. I did know that it presented opportunities. By joining, I had the opportunity to meet all kinds of new people (not just freshmen) and I also got to experience a lot of activities most freshmen don't because of their naiveness to their existence. Although I had never foreseen myself as belonging to a fraternity, I believed it is where I belonged, it is something I wanted to do. It was an opportunity.


Anyway, it is getting late now. I am actually feeling pretty tired and my mind is losing its focus, so I think I will head to bed. Hopefully I will finish this entry tomorrow...

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