Many years ago, I went through this time when I was obsessed with origami. I loved creating the little paper animals over and over, working through the book I had bought myself and following the instructions for each creation. The very last origami piece in the book was a sort of rainbow star, made up of seven or eight different colored pieces of paper. The instructions warned that this was the most difficult piece to create in their book, but now that I had mastered the others it should be fairly simple. Giddy with anticipation, I set to work on the rainbow star.
I gradually became more frustrated as the folded pieces of paper simply did not want to fit together. They kept falling apart or the paper kept tearing. I was rapidly running out of patience and paper.
Finally, I stormed out of the room, nearly in tears. My mother noticed my frustrated and upset expression and asked me what was wrong. Tears now freely rolling down my flushed and angry cheeks, I replied that I was never going to finish that rainbow star. I was done. Never again would I return to that frustrating task.
My mother calmly responded by saying that I had had a similar experience with one of my other creations, the origami orchid, and I had persevered through that. Yes, I thought, but that had been a lot easier in the end than the star. I could make those with no trouble now. My mother continued, suggesting that I calm down and try again later.
I took her advice and a few hours later I appeared again with the perfect rainbow star clutched in my small fingers, beaming proudly. It was the best feeling in the world, overcoming a challenge like that. Little did I know that I would have far greater challenges in the future, hardly as trivial as origami figures.
College has not been kind to me so far. The classes are difficult and incredibly stressful, of course, but academics are the least of my problems here. I feel like an outsider, more so than usual. I don’t make friends easily so as of now I have none. I don’t mind being alone but there are moments when I wish I knew there was someone I could talk to in person who actually cared about my problems. I used to be able to fall back on my family, but now that they are four hundred miles away I am finding it a bit difficult to talk to them in person.
Of course I have been praying. I know that God cares about me and he will always be there, but as my mother so frequently likes to remind me, humans are relational creatures and they need at least some companionship. Even extreme introverts like me need that.
So, I have been considering giving up. It would be a tremendous improvement for my mental health to transfer to a college somewhere back home. I could even go to the college across the street from my old high school and commute every day with my sister and my mother. That sounds excellent to me.
But I know that I am here for a reason. God pushed me here and therefore he must have some kind of plan. I haven’t seen it yet, and I am beginning to become frustrated with the lack of improvement in my life since I arrived at college. This is a trial, I remind myself. I have to push through it. I just keep wondering if it’s worth pushing for. I don’t want to give up. I know that if I manage to get through this rough patch I will be happy with myself and proud of my success. Just like with that rainbow star.