Tremendous pressure to live up to the Hype of going to a superpower school, which is full of myths and legends of great/exponential gain!

Obtaining the degree made me feel like I had to produce something contrary to the way I have ever lived my life, which is for the purpose of gain. Now I'm supposed to roll out some big plan of attack to get some big fat paycheck. I am more like a bohemian Vancouver nude beach bum who now is “supposed to lay out some hard-driving plan. I tried to explain to my coworker that I studied psychology for three years at the University of Toronto, but I was not selected for the program. “So you got a certificate,” she responded.  They (the University of Toronto) do not issue certificates; either you earn a degree at a university, or you don't; those are your options. I do not know why I'm so depressed about getting a degree at the University of Toronto. Maybe its just uncharacteristic of me. Maybe the hard-driving force that the University of Toronto is uncharacteristic for me, a free-flowing nincompoop. In so many ways, it's like, how did I get here? I was living my life, fasting and praying it would happen and taking courses. And now I’m a newly graduated forty-three-year-old with a bachelor’s in Critical Theory in Psychological Literature. I want to get to the root of what I’m feeling. I feel like an incapable nincompoop lately; there is not a single thing I do that I feel I am proficient in or particularly skilled at.

I thought my path would be clearer. I'm still confused, if not more confused. So many of my emotions seem far beyond my control these days. I saw Brian the other day, and I couldn't help but lick my lips when he was sitting with Andrea. When I came back inside, I took a caromazipine; my jaw began to hurt; maybe it was my heart (seeing my ex-best friend with the guy I crave was just too much while I'm going through this). I was feeling unaccomplished, ashamed, useless, sad, depressed, and frantically worried about fulfilling obligations of such a title. The obligations of every title feel too weighty, let alone carrying the weight of the title of “ University of Toronto Graduate.

I haven't been to a single graduation party. Such things are far from me mentally. I would love to be “there,” be in that part state of mind. The whole city is a buzz; Toronto just hosted the FIFA soccer tournaments. The parties must have been crazy.

I was doing nothing, just worried sick about producing “something worthy”: a book, a published paper, or something artistically sprung from the mind of God, academically or artistically.

It may take many days and nights walking on the lake shore to figure all this out. I never thought I would have to work out graduation. What else in the future will I have to work out that I thought would just come?

Grad at forty-three was without a glam wig, eyelashes, or even a manicure. I did have Steve, Pakin, Aunt Jeannette, Doug, and Devyne, Alex, Veronica, a little rain, a lot of sun, singing the national anthem, Anointing oil on Steve Pakin's hands, a very fancy restaurant, Uncle Pat wanting a ticket, clothes shopping with Devyne.

I question so much right now: should i have uninvited Doug to have a ticket for Uncle Pat who would have been able to pay my 2300.00 Dallar fee so easily and he really did want to celebrate this victory with me Doug was just kind of not into the whole thing i was a fucking disaster around that time how could i expect myself to function enough to make such a tough decision only God could have mad the right decision not me.

There is something to be said about the “uncurated life.” I walk past the street performer only to decide to go back after a block to get his information. The first time I passed him, I was too shy to ask for the information, but I built up the courage after walking away. It looks like I do not know where I'm walking or what I am doing. I'm going through life; I go forward; I go backward; I swirl around; I place one foot in front of the other.