I Am No Longer Having Fun

I haven't felt depressed like this in a long, long, long time. And it would seem there's no reason for it. I'm healthy; I'm getting married in six months; I'm pursuing a degree in a field I love; everything is just so fucking great on paper, and this week I've been more miserable than I have been in years.

Part of it is that I've come to the realization that I think I hate teaching. Actually, it's perhaps not so much that--I think I suck at teaching. I am one of those teachers I hate. I'm brilliant (not to toot my own horn, but it's true), and I have no idea how to convey it onto others. More than that, it's been only 2 weeks into this quarter, and I feel like it's already sucked away my whole life--we haven't even gotten to the brutal part yet! I feel like I'm drowning just knowing about all the grading in the very near future! And I think to myself, Oh my Lord, I signed up to do this for the rest of my life??

I keep telling myself it was just a bad day; I've just had a string of bad days. That may be all well and true, but that doesn't erase the fact that you can't do much with a Goddamn Ph.D. in film studies besides become a professor and teach, and I'm not sure that I ever actually wanted that. I've always wanted a job that I can leave at the office at the end of the day so you can get back to your real life, but work goes home with you when you teach! And I don't know how to stimulate discussion in a bunch of dumbass kids who have no fucking idea about taste and who tell me that Singin' in the Rain made them appreciate Glee more and that they don't understand what a fucking short essay test is. I have no patience for this! I have no desire to make kids like this learn! And I'm at the point where I don't even know if I have anything brilliant to contribute to the world of academics, let alone to the actual world, and I am so fucking sick of having to explain WHAT A PHD IN FILM STUDIES MEANS! Do you think Martin Scorsese has a doctorate degree? NO! So STOP ASKING ME IF I PLAN TO DIRECT OR BE A SCREENWRITER!

And it's not like I have a clue what to do if I stop. I have no life skills. I went to one of the best universities in the country, and I don't think I have any practical skills. I'm even past the point of saying that all I want to do is plan my wedding. I love my fiancé, don't misunderstand, but I am just sick of all the bullshit that goes along with putting on this big party that everyone claims is all about what I want, but in reality it doesn't seem like I'm getting much of anything that I want. For one thing, everyone thinks that you want their advice, and they only offer it to you when you don't actually want it, and then they tell you things like, "Oh, that's up to you" when you actually desire some input. Really helpful, I know. And I know everyone tells you that you can't try to please everyone (but I am so fucking sick of everyone), but in a supreme effort not to be a Bridezilla, I compromise. I acquiesce. I let things go. Just to keep the peace. Never mind that every time I call home the invite list seems to grow, or that just about every idea I have that I get excited about my fiancé finds some flaw with, or that my future MIL puts on all the airs of being super-duper-uber-conservative Catholic, but claims not to be able to understand the concept of godparents for the couple as a Filipino Catholic wedding tradition. IT'S NOT HARD! I keep telling everyone how my family is being so helpful, and they are helpful when it's convenient to them. If I ask them to do something, they'll do it if they remember. Or if they think it's right. Or until they change their mind. (That's a big one.) And left and right people keep reminding me to do things that I OBVIOUSLY know have to be taken care of or done or WHATEVER, and I just want to know why people can't trust that I am an adult, despite my looks, and I know what freaking goes into planning a wedding! God, I am just so sick of being told what to do...

I can't even look forward to sex anymore. Yeah, that's right. I've stayed a virgin for 25 years, and being Catholic is ruining the prospect of sex for me. My fiancé knows I'm a private person who gets squeamish about people knowing things about my body or what (potentially) goes on in the bedroom. So tell me why he preferred to take the Natural Family Planning class in person rather than online? Why he had to tell his parents about it, and then assure me that they'd never bring it up, only to have it (of course) brought up while we were at his place for Christmas? Why we had to sit in the front table during the first class? And this NFP shit is fucking disgusting! Holy shit, I know I'm paranoid about getting pregnant too soon, but I think I'd almost rather go for several more years of abstinence than have to keep track of mucus! Tacky, stringy, egg whites??? EW EW EW EW EW! I nearly vomited at the table this morning when the visual aids came up. I was this close to crying. And I refuse, refuse to touch myself to find out about the hardness of my cervix. No way. Isn't the Church supposed to be against all that activity? Why is it that women have to go through all this crap? What the hell does the man have to go through? I laughed out loud at the part of the lesson when they talked about how both parts of the couple get involved in the tracking process. For example, the husband will remind his wife to take her temperature. That. Is. Bullshit. That better not be their idea of how men share the responsibility of child-rearing, because I promise you I will cut a bitch.

For the first time in my life, I find myself unable to lose weight, too. But I won't get into that now. People have come home.

~The Original Fong~
**You wish you could pull off being me**

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