"Next"

Never in my nineteen years of life have I ever found myself stagnant. Never in my nineteen years have I been without guidance. Never in my nineteen years have I been without direction. Never in my nineteen years have I been in a place where I am not working towards “better” or “next”. As a child, I watched my cousins and sisters on their first days of school: livid with jealousy and desire, waiting for my day, waiting for my turn. Each year running towards progression, each year growing towards the next; growing towards progression, working towards the next. A twelve-year anticipation towards finality with compulsory education, the long awaited sigh of relief to be free to do “me” as I burst through the gates of my high school on graduation day. Unbeknownst to me, unable to truly explore and discover the nature of “me” in a collective education system applied firmly to millions of individuals, I had little to no idea of what or who “me” was as I blindly, swept up in momentum, swallowed and followed the “natural order” of “just how things should be”, the mainstream progression in our lives that our society has conditioned us to follow, blindly, no questions asked.  Tick, next. Cross that one off the to-do list. 
Next I found myself running blindly along the paved and fenced path of “next” from the gates of my high school on graduation day to university, each step a natural step; was it not?  The very next step in my long list of “next”.  It was here I found a growing dissatisfaction with the space in which I found myself, as I learned, as I grew, as I lived alone and away from my community, my family. Coming home exhausted and drained to my empty apartment, dissatisfied with what I was being force-fed to follow and believe, I became increasingly hungry for something different. At this point I knew not what I was hungry for, only that I was hungry and my appetite was for change. In what led me to the moment of unclear clarity and hazy unhappiness I decided to defer from university I am eternally grateful and have a continuing and growing appreciation for. 
It is these next six months in which I first experienced what is was like to have no direction. Left to my own devices for the first time in 19 years, no syllabus nor curriculum telling me which subjects to take and classes to attend; no loving parents dragging me from under the crumpled covers of my bed firmly telling me if I didn’t get a move on I was “going to miss the bus”. Almost a metaphor, isn’t it? It is in these six months that I have begun to truly grow spiritually, free from the shackles of “next” and it’s crippling timeline, blessed with the time to explore the uncharted territories of my self. It has not been easy, and there have been days where without the gentle tug of my parents dragging me from under the covers, I did not choose to surface. There were days spent numbing myself in disordered behaviour, numbing myself with mindlessness, numbing myself with consumerism; seeking fulfilment and happiness as I desperately grasped for straws of control in a future I felt I had none over. The straws slid through my fingertips slick and weighted by the fleeting and false happiness they once gave me. I learnt many lessons in this space. I firmly believe that every step, fall, mishap and discourse that led us to where we are today is a step in our personal growth. I believe that every hardship teaches us something, and will only, if we let it, make us stronger. I believe that there is only one way up from rock bottom. I will speak later in detail about what I have learned, as with each lesson and realisation I uncover more, more, more. I no longer take subjects in Advanced English or Biology; I cannot quote Shakespeare or tell you the molecular structure of a cell.  But I am learning, and I am beginning to be able to tell you who “me” is.