get un-funky now

I haven't posted much in the past week or so (except for yesterday's blog title crisis). I've been in a funk. A seriously funky funk. And I wasn't sure if I should write about it because a) it seems incredibly selfish and insignificant considering the turmoil so much of the globe is in right now, b) I'm not sure if anyone wants to read a "woe is me" post, and c) it's scary to say – and write – these things out loud.

But I want to write about it. And I want to post it. And who knows, maybe someone can relate.

I've been feeling remarkably insecure lately. Not the typical girly insecurities like feeling not thin or pretty enough – although I have to say I have those moments as well. In general my insecurity comes from school and work.

I've never really been unsuccessful at school. In college I was honored with membership in Phi Beta Kappa. In high school I never got a B. I was valedictorian.

I don't say all this to brag - really, I don't. I never talk about these things. I never tell anyone unless I'm asked directly. I'm only saying them now to give context to how I feel and why I shouldn't feel that way.

I never felt smarter than other people in school. Sure, I realized on some level that I must be, or at least that the teachers thought I was. I did my best in school because I wanted to and I liked learning and because my father would have killed me if I didn't. And my best was always good enough - more than good enough. I wasn't really afraid of failing.

Now I think about it all the time.

I'm not completely sure what the difference is. Maybe its because the stakes seem so much higher in grad school. Maybe partially it's because if I failed in high school or college, well, so did lots of other people. The pressure was off, I suppose.

Not so in grad school.

Everyone else seems older, more experienced, more serious. They have read the New York Times every day for the past five years. They have opinions on what's going on. They are excited to get out there and do it, real reporting, real interviews. They intimidate me.

I, on the other hand, would rather spend my day blogging about Glee or what some starlet wore on the red carpet or Slankets than the revolution in the middle East or the tsunami in Japan. Not because I don't find the revolution interesting or newsworthy or important (and I realize Slankets are the opposite of all those adjectives), but I think because I so desperately want to put off the real world for a little bit longer.

I do love writing. I believe in writing. I love and believe in the power of words. I think you can express things that are hard and complex and scary through writing in a way you can't with speech alone (this post is proof - I have been trying and failing to verbalize these things lately).

And I honestly love my classes this semester. I love talking about current events, learning about online news and social media, analyzing writing, coming up with creative ways to say things... My professors are really inspiring and I feel like I'm learning a lot. It's just when I go out to the real world to actually implement what I've learned that I freeze. It's like have a mental block. I get overwhelmed and stressed and just retreat.

I don't know if this is the career for me. I don't know if I'm wasting my time and money in journalism school. But I also don't know what, if anything, I'd rather be doing. I want to write and I want to be successful and I just can't seem to figure out the path that takes me there.

This is the most conflicted I've been in a long long time. And it might be too serious and too personal. I feel kind of weird putting it all out there. But there it is.