I have a new plan. I don't think I mentioned it earlier, but I'm going to apply to grad school in London, because I don't think Georgia is going to let me come back. If I were to get in, that would be amazing, and would prove that life is worth living, and that all things happen for a reason, but if I were to be rejected, it would just showcase the meaninglessness of life. So I'm afraid to apply, but I'm going to do it anyway, because I for sure can't get in if I don't apply, right? It's terrifying to think that my future is held on something so fragile as the whim of a single lecturer, who may or may not agree to take me under her wing as a research student, but it's probably good practice for me. Or something. I do wish she would reply, though. It's been more than a day. And I know that academics are busy, and that they often can't reply to emails on time, but it feels like she's going to reject my research inquiry, or maybe think that I'm rude, or something like that. I don't know what to think, really. I have no control over the situation anymore, and that's scary.
Someone at the AA meeting today said that experience is something we get right after we need it, and I think that's true. I wish I had experience with grad schools, and applications, and research inquiries, and all of this. I feel like I'm shooting in the dark with my eyes closed. And I can't ask my mom, because she would pitch a fit over me applying in the first place. Fortunately, E has some experience with helping other people apply, and with reapplying to school after having a mental health-induced leave of absence (and being accepted), so I'm trusting her to help me through. I do trust her, so much. Even though some of her edits on my research proposal weren't exactly what I would have put, I still changed them, because my level of trust in her is that high. Do you know how much I have to trust someone in order to trust their writing skills over mine? This is unheard of.
I really have no idea what's going to happen. I don't know if I'm being overly pessimistic when I say that I think I'm going to be rejected, or if that's actually true, but hey, Georgia wanted me, and I was only one of six candidates to get in, so maybe UCL will want me, too. It could be. I can't imagine it, but that doesn't mean it won't happen. I didn't imagine visiting E in England, or going to Georgia, or even living in this horrible sober living house, and somehow, I muddled through all of that okay. Or, well, I suppose one might argue that I didn't muddle through my stint in Georgia with any degree of okay-ness, but at least I didn't die. The point is, things can happen with no prior precedent. They have to. Experience is an arch wherethrough gleams that untraveled world whose margins fade forever and forever when I move, and all that. Just because I can't imagine going to another country-- another continent-- for three years (and I definitely can't imagine it) doesn't mean that it can't conceivably happen. It could happen. I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much, but that doesn't mean I have to purposefully crush them at every opportunity, either. I'm just going to try to practice mindfulness, stay in the moment, not expect anything, keep it neutral. But I just wish I could know so I could prepare.