The reason I regularly consume enough coffee to drown a small child.
The reason Eminem blares through my headphones into my skull injecting energy into my rundown limbs on a daily basis.
The reason I’m writing this hunched over, exhausted, the bags under my eyes large enough to carry textbooks.
I’m burnt out. But aren’t we all?
From what I gather, college students average close to 5 hours of sleep per weeknight. We’re bombarded with quizzes, exams, papers, homework, classwork and projects. We’re expected to make grades while involving ourselves on campus, maintaining friendships, paying rent, and maybe if we feel like it holding down a part-time job. We’re also supposed to casually party our asses off every weekend.
Factor in four straight months of this and you have the gist of our generation. Our plugged-in, hyped-up-on-caffiene generation. Our everyone-is-tired-all-the-time generation. Our generation trying to balance the present and repair the past while overwhelmed with The Future — an abstract concept that we hear is very important these days.
An impossible burden.
My roommates and I have a coping method. It’s called ‘gather in the family room to laugh about our lives.’ We tell stories. We laugh. We talk about grades and we laugh. We mention jobs and life and bank accounts and our futures and become almost hysterical.
There is no cure for The Burnout. Too much pressure comes from outside sources: professors, parents, potential employers. Even, to some extent, peers.
But there is a catharsis.
Take comfort in the fact that we’re burnt out together. Heavy demands fall squarely on the shoulders of us all. We’re all weighed down, in danger of crumbling.
But misery loves company, and Burnout isn’t forever.
Trudge slowly onward. We’ll count down the days (I’ve chalked them onto the wall of my kitchen) together.
We’ll get there.