I’ve always been an overachiever.
In high school, I was an involved honor student, but when I went to college I vowed to become even more involved in campus life than I had been in the first twelve years of my education. My whole life, I’d heard that “college is only what you make of it” so I was determined to do it right.
Within the first three days of being on campus, I was on the executive council of the honors program at my school, had signed up for every single club I could see at the school activities fair, and was taking a full load of classes. With each passing semester, I found myself joining more and more activities and taking on leadership positions wherever I could. I also pressured myself into holding two on-campus jobs, and made myself hold a high enough GPA to keep me on the dean’s list every semester. When people asked me what I did at school, I would rattle off all of my commitments in one long-winded breath, often getting just wide eyes in response. I’d laugh and shrug it off like it was no big deal. I liked being busy. I loved meeting all different kinds of people and being a part of different aspects of campus. And it really wasn’t a big deal—until the second semester of my senior year.
To say I burned out would be an understatement. Everyone has a breaking point, and I hit mine hard. Exhausted and stressed beyond belief halfway through the second semester, I struggled to come to terms with the fact that my college career was over. Though I’d had successful internships, I was still looking for a job (as many, many college seniors are), and all the pressure I had put on myself to succeed made me feel worse and worse as I watched my peers accept job offers.
When I crossed the stage at graduation and got my diploma just over a month ago, all I wanted to do was cry. Not because I was sad that college was officially over, but because I felt like a failure.I moved back home and for the first time in years I had absolutely nothing to do. My agenda, which had been attached to my hip in school to keep track of everything, was empty, and my email was silent, apart from my weekly P&B assignments.
For the first few days of the summer, I just paced around my house nervously. I unpacked my bags and boxes from school, cleaned out my closet, and redecorated my room a little bit. Then, once I was done with those, I had nothing to do. All that was left for me was to relax. I wasn’t comfortable with it at first, but then I started to unwind. I would sleep in—oh, how much I had missed sleep—and then wake up and figure out what I wanted to do with my day. I did some yoga, read for fun, and watched way too much TV. I hung out with my boyfriend, reconnected with some old high school friends, and wrote short stories, something I’d been itching to do for forever but hadn’t been able to find time for. I was doing things that I had wanted to do, but had put off because of all of my other commitments. I was finally giving myself some time to just be.
Taking a break is one of the best things I could have done. I was able to figure out how out of touch I had become from myself. By taking a break, I was able to start going back to the happier, more carefree version I had been before stress had taken over. It definitely hasn’t been easy, and I still sometimes feel a little bit lost, but I think that’s part of being a new grad as well. I don’t have life figured out. No one has life figured out. And that’s okay. It’s easy to become wrapped up in life, and feel pressure to just keep going as fast as you can. But it’s also important to remember that sometimes taking a break is the best thing you can do.
Feature Photo via Tumblr