Picture a balloon that was just blown up with normal air instead of helium. Then, before it gets tied, picture letting it go. It shoots up in the air, making a squeal sound before parachuting to the ground. Then, picture my face on that balloon, because that is how I feel.

I guess instead of that long analogy, I could just say I feel deflated. I feel uninspired and unmotivated. There’s a shelf in my room that fell last weekend, and I still have not rehung it. My dirty laundry is piled to the sky. I have a six-page paper due tonight, and I have not started it. It’s been weeks since I picked up a book. 

I tell myself I’m just lazy and that I should get a grip. Then, I remember that I didn’t feel like this a few months ago. Last semester, I mapped out my assignments every week and handed them in ahead of time. I did my laundry every Sunday and made my bed every morning. 

I tell myself it’s just the sophomore slump and I’ll get over it. Then, I think about how much I hate my classes. Last semester, they felt new. This semester, I’m learning the same things over again. I find myself resisting the urge to roll my eyes at professors because they’ve just repeated something I heard three other professors say. I walk into a classroom in the Cathedral for an hour and 15 minutes and then walk around the corner to a mirrored classroom for another hour and 15 minutes. Then I come out and do a lap around the circular hallway because everything looks the same, and I’ve lost my sense of direction.

I feel as if I’m not progressing. I feel static. Last semester, I shot into the air squealing, and now I’m parachuting to the ground.

This is not a new feeling for me. In my first blog, I wrote about my struggle to pick a major and searched for comfort in a decision — which I found, briefly. I declared a major in media and professional communications and a minor in creative writing. I decided I wanted a career in journalism, and I finally took a deep breath. That deep breath only lasted a year and a half. 

Today, I swapped my usual coffee order for a new flavor only for it to be so gross I had to throw it in the trash. If I can’t even stick to a coffee order, how am I supposed to decide on a career path this early in my life?

As I doubt my decisions, I wonder if I’ll ever feel satisfied. Will I ever stop searching for answers and then get bored when I find them? Will I be a balloon inflated and deflated over and over again?

I don’t want to be relentlessly unsatisfied. I don’t want to have career commitment issues. I just want to have it all figured out. When I was a balloon shooting into the air, I felt relieved. Now that I’m parachuting to the ground, I’m scared. 

All I can do is hope I’ll reinflate, and that this time, I’ll tie the knot to hold the air in.