Hillecam

I love my weekdays and am starting to hate weekends.

My weekends are reminders of what's failing in my life and the weekdays are reminders of what's successful in my life.

Example: I love my new job. I feel like everyone I work with I can call a friend. All my supervisors are so nice to me and praise my work, something I haven't heard in a work or school setting in over a year. My major is great, I'm making friends with people there and I feel like I'm doing a generally good job and doing what I like to do, even during the moments when I question my own ability.

My life has been so positive and enriched thanks to all my marketing and public relations opportunities: I'm developing practical skills, I'm developing valuable relationships, improving on my networking skills, I'm learning how to care and serve others more, I am re-learning my own worth, I feel like a good person who is not only on the road to success, but helping others feel accomplished. I am learning so much from my Isaiah class and my Photography class. All my emotional needs are more than satisfied during the week, in fact I am incredibly happy.

And then the week ends. And what do I find?

That I've barely eaten anything and there is no food my fridge, nor is there any motivation to cook or go out grocery shopping. That I'm really tired and unmotivated to achieve menial, but necessary tasks. That I'm not building any good relationships, but rather avoiding people so I can finally have some time to have peace in my mind. And I'm really annoyed when I feel like I'm being bugged by somebody that stresses me. I get angry at two roommates frequently for things I really should just have more patience in.

I don't really care a whole lot about loving or serving the people in my ward, I dread having to put on a face for all except a few select people in the ward because the rest don't seem to care about me. I play piano in sacrament meeting, I listen to the lessons, and I love my FHE family, but I have no interest in staying after church to talk, or going to institute, or going to ward activities anymore. I feel like beyond the bishopric and a few FHE brothers and sisters who are awesome, true friends,  my ward has been a failure. I have been a failure to my ward. And it's the dreadful reminder every Sunday at ward prayer.

And it seems my goals and plans for the weekends seem to flop. Friends cancel on events that I'm excited to attend all week. I dodge my two roommates most of the weekend and try to not express my stupid irritation to them. I deal with a lot fake guys in my complex and dodge the ones that only look at me like I'm some piece of meat that's supposed to be perfect and make them happy. I feel like I'm just alone, that only a very few people really care, and that there's not point in making a lot of effort because these people who I've deemed not worth my time won't bring me any happiness in return.

I don't know why, but it feels like everything just fails on the weekends now. I flopped at a very easy tortilla recipe. I didn't get into the apartment complex I was hoping to get into for Fall/Winter and I have no idea where to go. I know it will work out the way it needs to. But another part of me dreads the possibility of living another year where I am in a ward of people who don't care or are interested in me and a complex where I feel lonely and simultaneously obnoxiously never left in peace. I feel like a failure with friendships and dating and a social life. I feel like a terrible person on weekends.

When Monday morning rolls around, I remember that I'm not a complete failure and go to the places where I can have some confidence in myself again. 

I really miss my summer ward where people would come sit by me at church, talk to me and not care if I was a dating potential or dating competition, sincerely care about my well-being, and would more than gladly to support me in any party I hosted as well as invite me to things. They are true friends.

I am grateful for the few here who are my sincere friends. Thank you for making my weekends bearable.

I don't understand why I feel like two different people depending on the day of the week. I am the same person. I am not trying to be rude to anybody. I don't know what I did to deserve such a different treatment. It can't be me.