My Fucked Up College Life

Did you ever picture your college life as a kid? Did you sit there, dreaming about how professional and put-together and fun-loving you’d become? Did you imagine how many friends you’d have, how your hair would become all long and shiny and straight, how you’d coast through classes on your way to a fabulous job?

Did you imagine having a threesome with your ex-boyfriend and current girlfriend?

My life is fucked. Because the only one of those scenarios that is true is the last, and like just about everything, I screwed it up. How do you screw up a threesome? You enjoy everything halfway, and then watch your girlfriend and ex-boyfriend make out and suddenly become so sad that you want to burst into tears and so mad that you want to punch them both in the face for kissing the other person. And then you get all quiet until they think you’re done so you can disappear into the bathroom and start sobbing hysterically (while listening to them continue). Finally, when your shirt is covered in snot and tears you let your ex come into the room to comfort you (but not your girlfriend). And then your brain hurls every reason you are wrong about everything in your face. And it sucks.

My life is fucked. How did this all happen? How did an innocent trip to visit me in my college town become a friendship between my boyfriend and girlfriend, and then become fucking? Why did they have to get drunk like that, and why did my sober-self have to agree to a threesome that had “bad idea” written all over it? How did I end up in this fucked up place?

I just want to fast-forward through this point in my life—the point where I can’t stay happy through a whole day, where I’ve distanced myself from most of my friends, where what I want and what is possible are two separate things. The worst part is how tired I am of trying to hide how unhappy I am to my girlfriend—but it’s not like I can be completely open all the time because all it will do is make her sad and make me angry. So I’m stuck in my feelings, at least until I can go home for the weekend and visit old friends that make me feel like my old self.

When I was in high school, and went through my second major depressive episode, I realized that college wasn’t going to look like what I imagined as a kid. I realized that every few years I was going to have to suffer through my oppressive depression and that my version of happiness would never be quite as simple as other peoples’. I realized that this depression would turn me into someone self-centered and pessimistic and angry, and that all I could do would be to look for the symptoms and try to catch it early.

But even in that scenario, I never pictured a threesome.

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About diagnosemylife

Okay, if I can't keep all this stuff about my life in my head, how do you expect me to shove it in this little box?

Posted on 06/23/2015, in This Whole "Life" Thing, Who The Hell Am I? & Other Stuff You Ask Yourself and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. Being a man I’ve often fantasised about a threesome, but being a realist I know I probably wouldn’t be able to live with the reality.

    That still doesn’t mean I’d be able to stop myself if the opportunity arose.

    Like

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