The novelty of it all has worn off, hasn’t it? Winter arrived overnight in its signature tasteless fashion right in time for the last exhausting scholarly thrust in the face of unending coursework, deadlines and, if you’re really an academic battleaxe, exam preparation.
The lecture halls that at the start of the semester were so full of bright faces and a chorus of frantic tip-tapping on keyboards after every lecturer’s sentence are now scattered with a handful of tired individuals trying desperately to focus on what once seemed wildly interesting but now sounds like senseless drivel. I’ve gotten into the habit of peering over people’s shoulders—on those rare days when it feels worth braving whatever artic cold front this town seems to be experiencing to attend—and noticing that even though they all are present, every laptop screen blinks as it juggles hundreds of tabs all relevant to different modules.
Everyone is stretched so thinly between subjects that to keep undivided attention on one is an Odyssean task. The more you pour yourself into one field of work, the less of you there is left for anything else. You skip lectures to catch up on other lectures and soon you find yourself in an unholy cycle of feeling like no matter what you do, it is simply not enough.
It’s high time for a comeback.
Source: Instagram/@confessdrews.
I don’t think you can experience the feeling of being a real comeback kid until you’ve hit rock bottom. I’ve been touched as many others have by the previous surge of posts on @confessdrews about people struggling to fit in, meet friends and keep up with courses in St Andrews. I think it genuinely must be addressed that this university is not in any way the greatest at fostering social relationships outside of a specific category of people.
As winter comes, people that have not found their people yet have even less of an opportunity to do so. Quiet, unsung loneliness is in abundance. I understand how easy it is to find yourself in a dark and messy room, sleeping through daylight, missing lectures and other opportunity for social interaction and a whisker away from giving up. I wish there was something I could think of to be done to help—maybe some people are just destined to experience this temporary hell.
Independent musical artist Sharon Van Etten focuses almost primarily on this time in a young person’s life, having had similar experiences herself. In an interview with the Observer, she says:
“They’re leaving, and they don’t have anyone. They think they know who they are, but they have no idea. Then they go to a strange new place to define themselves around people that don’t know themselves either.”
Credit: Sarah Fehr.
Her song ‘Comeback Kid’ addresses the inevitable changing of winds. Originally written as a piano ballad, she believed the song to be ‘too pretty’ and through production changed this through use of discord and out of sync vocals. The song is an epic testament to the fact that clawing yourself out of this hole is no pretty ordeal, but essentially beautiful. Van Etten stresses in the song that not much in life is harder than this initial rebirth, and all the suffering will lead to a lifetime of gratitude that those who seem to glide smoothly through these transitions and trials will not attain. If that’s any consolation.
My advice would be, if I’m warranted to give it, just try and make it through the semester. Hand in dodgy essays that don’t reflect your talent, if you have to. Show up to tutorials looking rough and exhausted, so long as you show up. Don’t concern yourself with being pristine, just be present, come back. Travel light, let go of the idea of greatness if it’s weighing you down. Store up all your excellence for later. Just make it through now.
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