Having a mental breakdown in the midst of pursuing an education, especially a heavily mathematical and scientific one, is never a good idea. Depression is the worst thing to happen to intellect: preying upon logical thoughts and quickly deteriorating even common sense. And unless you're Descartes, talking yourself out of it is not really an option.
I think it's safe to say I'm no longer in danger of the looney bin; however, I can still feel leftover shards. I would never be so selfish and cruel to the people who love me to do it, but it sure as hell sounds pretty bloody damn good at times. Driving home from class tonight, a little left in my mind, I couldn't stop what deeply dismal thoughts came: the pure pain and disappointment resulting from life and all its antics, from the people I trusted and cared most about, from the ugly things they and strangers have done, and from my own shortcomings. The fact is, I know the torment will only continue and sometimes, I would love to let it all end. The more excruciating the pain becomes, the less I care for the repercussions, the more distanced and numb I feel to even my best friends.
But that's so damn dramatic. And at heart, I think, I am a happy-go-lucky, optimistic, and empathetic individual. That's who I really am - who I'm supposed to be. I know my blog is not the most uplifting out there, but if you met me in real life, you'd wonder where all the darkness lay, it is so unapparent in my everyday, smirking self. I use this blog as one of my only outlets of therapy. And life isn't supposed to be easy anyway, just like higher math, or physics, or there would be no point to it at all. Somewhere along the way, someone (or several someones) had the same problems the rest of us did, and having grappled with them, found a pattern and method in which they could be understood. My Calculus professor said mathematics is just the study of patterns, and life is rife with these. Perhaps life's dilemmas are not always solvable, but at the very least, worthy of being challenged.
We had seasons in the sun;
but the hills that we climbed
were just seasons out of time.
Goodbye, my friend,
it's hard to die.