Underappreciation, and why overachieving college kids are frustrating.

*This is something of a rant post. I just coordinated the largest campus event for my college and I am pretty pissed now. Got a problem? Don't read it.*

A lot of people like to think they're infallible. Particularly so when it comes to seeing someone else operate under a stressful situation. Let's be honest, we've all done it from time to time. "Oh, that's easy." or "If I were doing it, I would do it this way." "I know what it's like to be that stressed, it's not that hard." etc etc. And yeah, sometimes people overreact, or do things improperly and make their lives more complicated. But that's not always the case.

Beer Bike.

A tradition at Rice, that's easily the biggest campus event of the school year. Also probably the even that brings in the most alumni (including homecoming). It's a week long of events leading up to race day of biking and chugging (water. No one but the GSA does beer anymore). And I (in my psychotic "I like to suffer" mindset), opted to coordinate for my residential college this year.

And while coordinating was miserable and stressful and I will likely NEVER do it again, the worst part wasn't the coordinating. It was the people who acted like or thought they could do or handle my job.

So a bit of background. School doesn't stop for beer bike. Your course load, whatever it might be, won't change. Work stays. As do tutorials, labs, meetings. I'm taking 14 hours, two of my classes are work intensive. I'm in class all day tuesday and thursday. I do research at MD Anderson six hours a week, spread across monday and wednesday. I also have on campus research lab meetings, am secretary of a Hispanic club, and a job a few hours a week. That leaves very little time for anything beyond much of homework.

Now add Beer Bike. Jones starts meeting rather regularly in October to start sponsorship and plan events. There's also the occasional bimonthly campus wide meetings. So add those two things in. Also, sponsorship is a lot of driving around, talking and meeting with people. Mr. Jones happens in October, so that's a half of a week of doing a lot of BB stuff. December picks up a bit in the realms of sponsorship. So BB is not bad at first.

But then you come back from break for January. Campus wide meetings are weekly. sometimes your other coordinators for campus wide are competent. sometimes not. Meetings sometimes last three hours depending on this. Also, the rest of your coordinating team might not be helpful, so you may be the only one from your college there. Sponsorship is in full gear everyday thing. You'll probably start skipping extracurriculars or moving meetings around. You also have to plan the first event at the end of January (this'll take a week of planning if you're lucky), take theme requests, come up with a ballot and dodge angry "WHY WASN'T THIS THEME ON THERE." etc etc.

February hits. Meetings go longer and are occasionally twice a week. College meetings are weekly or bi weekly as well. If you have no help you have to figure out details like funding, the budget, shirt design, balloons, willy week events, etc. There's also a lot of campus decisions such as the parade, rules and fines, etc. Shirts have to be in probably by the end of the month and honestly, no one else will design it. You have to start budgeting for kegs, shirts, swag, etc. You'll do Beer Bike stuff in class instead of taking notes and you'll probably scribble down your homework five minutes before its due. Even if you have a scheduled "I'll do homework now" time, and are diligent, Beer bike will interfere. And if you're the only coordinator on your team with any sense of deadlines you'll be the only one doing work and nagging the others to do their work.

Willy Week. You've stopped going to class. If you go, you're not all there or you end up leaving early to take care of things. You have to dodge people from your college, campus wide, etc. you have to get your fellow coordinators going and pick up their slack. If you're somewhere like jones there's daily events. You'll likely forget something you need and keep running to the store. You have to prep for sponsors, constantly have food and drinks, be ready with swag, tshirts, and questions about various things you haven't planned or are out of your control. This happens daily and anything you miss will pile up like a bad game of katamari. People think they can do your job and when you hint that if that's the case you'd appreciate the help, they come up with something else to do, are like "oh I have a test" (Oh, and what? I don't have work to do?), or are like "But it's not my job." (THEN SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH DOUCHE). It'll take a two hour meeting the day before to plan, Two hours of set up. An hour of panic of others not doing their part you agreed on in the meeting before. About half an hour to create a mess from other students, hear bitching, etc, and three hours of post-event clean up before planning the next one.

You won't sleep the night before. Things'll come up. Things other coordinators put off will become your job, particularly if they're on a team.

You have to have all sorts of minor things ready for the teams the next day. If other coordinators are on teams, you're almost the only one making sure the small details and paperwork are done. You need waivers in. You have to hunt down drunk people to give them their wristbands and make sure they're doing what they need to. You need to hunt down drunk alumni for the alumni team. All while putting out multiple kegs, powerhours, events, tshirts last minute, breakfast, painting and prep stuff and getting the teams ready. If you have a coordinator who shuts down under stress you're screwed. You also have to make sure no one is being too retarded and lay down the law.

On the track you'll probably still be tracking down waivers and wristbands. You have to be sharp to make sure no drunken idiot causes you fines or DQs. You have to know the rules and be ready to run around back and forth to talk to campus wide and other coordinators. Things will go wrong.

When its over you think you're done. Except for dinner, and victory party.

No one mentions clean up (which five people will do for a college of a few hundred), keg movement, follow up forms, fine meetings and such.

And still your overachieving perfectionist peers will be saying "They could've done this better." or "It wasn't that hard" or "They messed up." and other various complaints behind your back while muttering small fake "Great job. Thank you. We appreciate it."

No I'm not saying NO ONE can do my job. Sure, people can. But it's not easy. Don't think you won't be as stressed or miserable. You will be, if not worse. Don't play it off as easy if you've never done it. You're not perfect, you'll have the same problem. And don't lie to my face and be like "oh I appreciate it." You're only being appreciative because you were told to. Take the time to think of the stress. What the coordinators give up and do so you can have a great event. How grades and nerves and sleep has suffered. Then tell me you're appreciative.

And commence depression...

Actually, depression might be too strong a word for it. At least, for now it's not a full depressive cycle. But I'm definitely feeling the oncomings of it. Instead its mostly a dampened mood of lack-luster thoughts, increasing disbelief and disenchantment, and a lot more bitter met with a lot less sweet.

The thing about being bipolar, but only mildly to moderately so, without real medical intervention, is that it has made me hyper-aware of my moods. And although it is often difficult to properly verbalize my sentiments, I can create extremely accurate portrayals in words.

Meditation and discipline have done wonders for my states. Though they are largely unpreventable, the ability to recognize cognitively where I am headed helps me prepare for the onslaught and whirlwind that follows. It can also turn depression into a moderate depressive mood, rather than a severe and ongoing battle of major depression.

The issue then, becomes the trade-off. Functionality in a person with any form of mental illness yields an unprecedented lack of empathy and sympathy. It doesn't interfere significantly the ability to function independently to a socially acceptable degree, and thus the ability to care stops. But the phase between functionality and the verge of losing it all, a sort of limbo if you will, is the worst place to be. No one wants to lose it all, but with the lack of support, one almost tends in that direction through a sort of self fulfilling prophecy. And thus, a person who can function, but wants to be fully better, turns to a loss of functionality to gain the social support they need to be fully better, a nearly contradictory step back in the hopes of making a step forward. Yet a person should never have to take that step back if people accepted that functionality does not yield wellness.

I'm tired. Tired of being depressed. Tired of knowing what lies ahead. And so ready to give up on trying. Even now the hues around my room that i know were once vibrant seems dull. Lime green looks like a yellow green crayon on old manilla paper. Electric purple looks like a fading neon sign. Bright blues look like the sky as dusk approaches. Music seems flat and distant. The words of eloquent song writers that once held promise seem like they hold empty promises. And yet other words are unavoidable. Certain ones seems to scream out amongst the sea of others in the background, spread together like constant onslaught of an old television's hum. Thoughts that were once invigorating seem unreachable, veiled by some unknown force.

My thoughts wander to specific events. Failure and disappointment. My thoughts wander to him. Or multiple hims. What could've been, what would've been, what is and what still could be. Every old wound reopens, like the breaking of a scab too soon. Doubts commence.

The things I was once proud of seem foreign. I no longer trust my fashion sense. The guitar sounds out of tune despite the blinking green of the tuner. The chords and rhythms don't seem to work. The words won't form. The phrases don't work. The pages of unfinished novel seem unfit. Months and years of work seem poorly written and worthless. And it feels like the one thing I thought I could always turn to is lost. Hopes and dreams seem like dreams themselves, little more than distant imagination lingering from a barely remembered dream.

And yet I still function. I get out of bed. I go to class. I take on my duties. I make myself eat and I interact, frazzled at trying to keep up, and trying to care. I write this blog post. I have to keep going. Keep moving. If i let myself stop, I can't guarantee I'll be able to do it again. Who's to say that if I let myself go for one second that I'll be able to start again. I might not get out of bed. I might not be able to feed myself. I might stare off into space, un-rattled by the world. I've been there. I don't want to go again.

But commence the depression. The foreboding almost makes it worse. Or maybe it is worse. I can never tell. Even now it's seeping through, closer and closer as I end these words. The cycle is not here yet, but I can feel it coming.