A year has gone by and it’s the first time I feel that something actually changed. This year has had its fair share of “firsts”, it’s the first year I tasted independence, it’s the first year outside a community I belonged to for years, it’s the first year I spend without seeing your face and it’s the first year I lost someone close.
A year ago, I received my high school diploma and had no idea what I was going to do with it. I had so many choices on what career to pursue, and I finally chose engineering. Frankly, I wasn’t too eager but I thought no matter how it turns out to be I was going to stick with it and succeed.
And, so a summer went by, full of anticipation of what was to come. Came September, I left home to the dorm room n°303, in the capital. The first two days were days of exploration, we had the school to ourselves, a whole city to ourselves and it was time we learned to be independent, and did whatever we wanted. Freedom at last!
Lessons started on a Thursday and it didn’t quite meet my expectations, the teachers were a disappointment and the courses intimidating. Then, came the homework, and I realized I didn’t understand a single word, I felt like an idiot. It was then that I started feeling the fear and the general malaise that will intensify over the course of the year.
The first two weeks were normal, I hadn’t felt any changes. It was the same life, the same thoughts, the same feelings, the same me. But, as the weeks went by, a general depression overtook me, and it seemed all the bad moments I had witnessed over the years started coming back to me, and I started evaluating everything that had ever happened to me.
You see, during high school, I had met many teachers who influenced the way I thought about life. I was a man of deep faith back then, but I had a deep inclination towards the old Greek tragedies where the heroes defied the gods, and breathed life into their creations as if they were gods… and I was introduced by one of my teachers to a thought movement led by Camus, Sartre and many philosophers that argued for the absurdity of our existence. As a religious man, I never gave the question of our existence or its purpose much thought. So, as I read “L’étranger”, “Le mythe de Sysiphe”,”L’été”… And, attended the philosophy courses, where one openly studied the gods of the ancient and how they were created by the conscience due to a natural human fear of the unknown… I started looking, beyond my naïve religious arguments, for a purpose.
My religious beliefs started evolving from taking the literal meaning of the religious scripture to a more open belief that the text was open for interpretation. But, during the first months of this year, I found myself tearing apart the foundations of my belief, and gradually accepting it as an illusion. A God can not actually exist, he is, as is religion, a product of the fertile imagination of mankind. I had to face then, the absurdity of my existence, what is stopping me from putting an end to a life that was meaningless and unpleasant.
I had suffered all of my life of loneliness. A trend that started from when I was a child and I used to stay hours on end, on the roof of my grandmother’s house staring at the city. Later on, at school, I felt unable to connect with anyone, which resulted in a general feeling that I couldn’t be loved, that I was unworthy of it. But, you see, the only pleasure in life comes from loving and being loved in return, I loved over the course of my life but, it wasn’t reciprocated.