Grace
This week was one for the books, and not the ones where good memories go. But I will take this week as a reminder to always prioritize my mental health first, and the rest will follow. There are a lot of routine things I did when I worked at a law firm that I guess naturally carried over to now learning the law. For instance, I do this really fun thing where I don’t process things right away and wait until I get more than a beat of a break to debrief. When looking at cases or dealing with clients, I’ve learned that your feelings have to take somewhat of a backseat. You cannot let your feelings take the wheel (well, not fully at least), or you just will not get anything done. With finally letting my feelings drive, I have finally shed my first tears since moving here almost a month ago…
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A month is a really long time in retrospect for stuff like that to be suppressed, but when you have a “go go go,” “all gas no breaks” mentality like mine, it doesn’t really seem too far-fetched. The straw that broke the camel’s back didn’t even have a single thing to do with law school unsurprisingly. It had to do with me leaving my keys in the car of my Uber. But before I get to that straw, let me explain the other straws.
If you ask any college student what their most prized possession that they have on their person at all times is (after their electronics), they’ll probably tell you their water bottle. Every modern kid these days has a cool water bottle that they’ve grown uncomfortably attached to — it’s a glorified security blanket of sorts. My water bottle in particular, a bright yellow Hydro Flask, meant a lot to me since I’d gotten it during my freshman year of college to commemorate me finally seeing one of my favorite bands live. I chose that bright yellow color because that was the themed color of the album and tour (shoutout to the twenty one pilots fans, if you know you know), and coincidentally one of my favorite colors next to purple. I carried that thing everywhere; it had dings, the paint was chipped at the bottom from my clumsy self and just looked like someone loved it to death. It even survived this crazy move to a different state entirely. What it could not survive, apparently, was my negligence and carelessness after I realized I left it in one of the lecture halls after one of my classes. That was at the beginning of the week and it still has not turned up. If someone stole it, 1. Gross, and 2. I hope you enjoy years of sentiment that is not yours. I got a replacement the day after I lost it, so here’s to new sentiments being born, I guess.
At the tail-end of the week is when I became even more careless and left my keys in the Uber. Imagine my surprise when I come back to my place, frantically rummaging through my purse to find said keys. Another fun thing I’ve noticed about myself in terms of processing things much later after they’ve happened, is that I don’t panic in the moment. It’s kind of scary, to be honest. There are many points in my life that I reflect back to where I definitely should’ve panicked in the moment, but never did. To my dismay, the panic always happens when I’m idle, unoccupied, and have nothing but my thoughts to pay attention to. That being said, I got straight down to business, reported a lost item on the Uber app, got in contact with the driver, got my keys back, and safely entered into my apartment. In the 30-minute interim of me having to wait for my keys, however, is when I finally gave myself permission to cry. It was only then where I wanted to admit that I had been a mess all week. I couldn’t pay half as much attention in my lectures as I wanted to, I barely retained the readings, and I coasted through my assignments.
I cried even more at those revelations because it felt like I was already falling behind on the third week of classes. I thought, “How could I have possibly lost the two most important things that I carry on my person literally all the time?” I cried and cried and cried, and it was lethargic. It wasn’t depressing, but more of a sigh of relief. I wondered waited with anxiety to see what my breaking point was going to be since moving here, and as unfortunate as those events were, they were still things in my control. If anything, it’s just another lesson learned. I have to give myself grace. And give myself even more grace after that. I am still becoming familiar with what I would argue is an entirely new life. I just gotta learn from these little mishaps and become stronger in light of them.
